Author: Jason Reid

Ebony Rose Dark is a cabaret and performance artist who likes to be described as a VIP artist (visually impaired). Born and bred in Birmingham, they performed at some of the top queer cabaret nights in London when they lived there, and have now shifted their sights further south since becoming a Brighton resident. Ebony is a deeply passionate artist who seems to always exude pure joy, and I think that’s why I’m fascinated by them…

When and how did your love for performing manifest? 

My performance journey started at school. I acted in plays in primary and secondary school. Then in adulthood, when I plucked up the courage, I decided I wanted to delve more into performing arts, and so I studied dance and music at the Royal National College for the Blind in Hereford.

What do you get from performing?

I get an adrenaline rush of inspiration knowing who has graced the stage before me, and from the ambience and energy in the room. I feel excited and nervous. I’m always going over things in my head. I perform to provoke thought — to get people thinking about what I’m exploring, expressing and sharing; be that around disability (me being visually impaired), my sexuality, politics, the world, whatever.

I hope and aim to leave people thinking about what I’ve done. Performing gives me the biggest rush ever. For some people, I guess it’d be the equivalent of jumping out of an aeroplane. That’s how intense and amazing the feeling is for me.

Do you think that LGBTQ+ artists with disabilities are represented well on the cabaret scene, and what changes would you like to see in order to improve visibility? 

There’s definitely room for improvement, even though artists like myself and others are visible now. I feel that LGBTQ+ cabaret producers and promoters across the country could be doing more to make their nights more inclusive and inviting. For example, asking specifically for LGBTQ+ artists with disabilities. Create open mic nights and residences for us!

I must also say that most disabled artists are told by their parents/trainers that they will have to work a lot harder to achieve what they want to achieve and to be successful, due to a lack of awareness of their disability. People’s lack of knowledge of disability on the LGBTQ+ scene creates the obstacles. It not just about a venue being accessible, it’s about the people making it accessible as well.

At times, it has felt like I’ve been treated differently in some places, although not all the time. It’s a very difficult one, but for me the awareness comes from the opportunities that are about for people with disabilities in order for them to get the on to scene, i.e. the openness of the scene.

This is a national — probably international — problem. And it is getting better. There are places that have taken the lead on this; but now it’s time for other places across the UK, Europe, and the world to also step up and be open and inclusive.

Be that LGBTQ+ community that people always go on about; because a community is about including EVERYBODY regardless of their race, disability, or sexuality — that is a real community. Once we have that, then the community is real. Then people on the outside; parents of LGBTQ+ children and teenagers with disabilities can say okay I’m not worried about my child because I know they belong to a real community. That’s what needs to happen.

Away from the stage, where is your happy place?

My happy place away from the stage is probably on the dance floor, in a rhythms’ class, or nightclub. I’ve always loved dancing!

Is being famous something that you’re interested in?

Fame is something that I’m definitely not looking for. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. It’s certainly not the be-all and end-all of my creative path.

Do you ever get nervous before a performance? If so, how do you deal with that? 

Yes of course! My general rule of thumb is to never eat before I go onstage. Also a few deep breaths and vocal warm-ups and water. If that doesn’t work then a sip of Prosecco or red wine.

Which queer person from history would you most like to have met? 

I would’ve loved to have met Marsha P. Johnson because of their strength, courage and wisdom, and the incredible legacy they left behind — all the way from America, spreading to the rest of the world, with the starting of the Stonewall uprising in 1969. Since that day they’ve paved the way for many LGBTQ+ people across the world.

That momentum continues, pushing for more rights and freedoms where there are little rights for LGBTQ+ people. Not to mention the awareness they created, and they are creating for the BAME communities and their families.

You know, I would’ve loved to have gone shopping with them; to have time with them to figure out how they put themselves together, because they didn’t have a lot of money but they still made it work and became a well-respected person. That to me is very special.

Who are your living role models? 

Mzz Kimberley, Son of a Tutu, Ingo Cando and Lysander Dove (Bar Wotever), Darren Evans (friend), Tarik Elmoutawakil (co-founder and artistic producer of Marlborough Productions) and so many more. Without all these people I would not be the artist that I am today. Some of these people have supported me as a proud gay person for a long time, and I really appreciate it.

Proudest professional achievement to date? 

Performing at Trans Filth and Joy at Manchester Pride Festival, and UK Black Pride at Camden Roundhouse. But I also have to go back to performing at Cripping the Arts Festival with Browntown Abbey in Toronto, Canada — that was absolutely amazing!

What does the future hold?

I want to continue creating wonderful cabaret, dance and photography. And to continue my relationship with Sussex Dance Network and Marlborough Productions, who’ve been very supportive of me since I moved to Brighton. Also, Trans Creative UK, Duckie, Bar Wotever, and Extant Performing Arts Company of Visually Impaired Artists and Theatre Practitioners — it’s essential for me to keep all those contacts because they’ve been amazing and I wouldn’t be me without them.

You’re going to be judging the new talent competition at The RVT on March 9 that is solely for people with disabilities. How are you feeling about that? 

I’m honoured to be a judge. This is a crucial competition. Miss Sugar Cube — founder of Disabled Queer and Hear — has taken charge and grabbed the bull by the horns, which is brilliant. She’s created another platform for LGBTQ+ artists with disabilities to shine, and to show that we are here too, and do as good a job as anyone else, regardless of disability.

It’s hugely important, and a fantastic platform. I’m very much looking forward to it. It’s also part of my passionate feeling of easing everybody into some kind of familiarity and normalisation of LGBTQ+ artists with disabilities, as we respect and take note of where we are right now.